Call Me Lucky
by FoxySocks42
Summary: Alyss died to save a child in a burning inn. Since that day, Gwen has lived, alone, in the forest for 15 years. But as fate would have it, the Rangers find her. Apprenticeship offers her a chance at a new life; and she takes it.
1. Chapter 1

_**STALKER**_

The girl sat cross legged in the damp grass, surrounded by a clearing of young saplings and wildflowers. Small animals bustled about, foraging while bugs lazily blundered through the air, swerving in the soft summer breeze. Grand willows and white birches basked in the sunlight, their leaves glistening with the warmth.

It was a stunningly peaceful, beautiful sight.

But she did not smile. The history of this place still haunted her thoughts. Ironic, she mused, how so much life springs from so much death. Years ago, when this very clearing had witnessed the lives of her family taken, the earth had mourned alongside her, leaving a blackened pit of ash where the land had once thrived with life. But then, when the next spring came, the land began to revive itself; it moved on. The young woman felt as though the very ground had forgotten she existed, along with everyone else. Even so, she came to the clearing every so often to check on the progress life was making, and her soul, slowly, began to grow around it's own blackened pit. She feared, however, that her thoughts would never regain purity like the forest. Having given her respects to the memories of those passed, she stood, and disappeared into the dark woods.

Little did she know that someone was watching her.

Dear Crowley,

I've been stalking this girl for a day now.

She is everything out of the ordinary. Unlike the girls of her age (which I assume to be 15) she cares little to nothing about her appearance. Her hair hangs in uneven and ragged (I think she cuts it with a knife, remind you of anyone?). She is short, and partially malnourished. Despite this, it looks like her legs could carry her very far and very fast should the need arise.

Her tracking skills are competent, but certainly not enough to 'never get it wrong' as we say. I saw her empty a snare earlier this morning; that must be her way of sustaining herself. She seems to have no family, or friends of any kind. I wonder why she chooses to live alone, or perhaps, why she has to.

Though I'm sure she'll come with some challenges, I feel that her situation calls for an intervention, and I'm not the type to leave it up to others. I know you haven't approved me taking her on, but I'm informing you now that I plan to do so anyway. We're Rangers after all. We're meant to break the rules.

I intend to meet her. Today. I believe that she will be my first apprentice. Expect one more at the gathering.

Sincerely,

Gilan (And Blaze)

P.S. Don't tell Halt


	2. Chapter 2

_**HIDE AND SNEEK**_

I crouched behind a tree, using the shadow of the forest to hide myself from the sentries. It was early, around 4 in the morning, just before the sentries switched out. They were patrolling lazily, not expecting to see anything.

Which is why they didn't see me.

My objective was clear: get in the castle, get the money, get out. I did this every few months or so, because whether I liked it not, I needed money to survive the world on my own. Never had I found someone willing to employ me, being only half educated and having a shaded background... I do my best to gather what I can, but there are just some things the forest alone cannot provide. So I steal.

Only from the rich, I swear, never from someone who depends on their every penny; and only a little, just enough for bedding and clothes. Tonight I was back a castle Redmont, who's baron was my personal favorites... and also one of the richest. I crossed the courtyard easily, it was a moonless night and I was wearing black. Slipping past the guards, I snuck inside the kitchen doors and into the servant halls, shedding my dark cloak and disguising myself with the dirty smock of a Redmont paige. With my hair pulled up in a cap, I was quite mistakable for a boy. Running silently and swiftly through the dark passageways, I found the door I was looking for. Taking a pin from the ones holding together my worn out shoes, I bent it flat and stuck in gently inside the keyhole, feeling around for the notches that would open it. I smiled mischievously as the door smoothly swung open. Stepping inside, I shut the door behind me and made my way to the treasure box, picking the lock and selecting a couple gold and silver coins, taking a few extra for the families in the streets to find on their doorsteps. Closing it, I stood and turned.

Right into the startled face of a castle guard.

"EH?! THEIF! THEI-" He yelled, cut off by the force of my foot in his face.

He stumbled back, off balance, as I stood there, dumbly wondering what to do next. He'd alerted the other guards, who were no doubt seconds away, and my options were running out. I felt a cold breeze from the direction of the wall and thought…

Window.

Turning on my heel, I broke for the opening.

But not before the guard came to his senses and sliced my side with his sword. Cringing in pain, I ducked his next blow, swinging my leg out and tripping him. Taking his dropped sword, I slammed the hilt hard on his already bruised face. Satisfied he was out, and standing as quickly as my body allowed, I looked down, and saw the blood pooling around me.

Ripping off the page smock, I wrapped my middle tightly and dragged the guard to where I'd been, disguising the blood as his. I ran for the window and slid over the sill, gripping the uneven stones on the side of the tower.

"Where is HE?! WHERE'S THE THIEF?!" A guard yelled, no doubt furious at his unseen adversary. I would have smiled, but I was rather preoccupied.

Because I was hanging on the side of a building.

And my grip was slipping.

"Sir, if we revive Henry, he could tell us." Another guard.

"Are you crazy Kenny? Look at all that blood! HE'S DEAD! And I'm gonna find the killer." Another voice.

"SHUT IT! Leo, you search the room, Kenny, come with me." The first guard said, likely the commander.

Footsteps clacked out of the room, slamming the door. I could hear Leo shuffling around, overturning over tables and ripping open closets. I could hear my fingers and toes screaming for relief.

"He's not dead, you know." A calm, deep voice echoed subtle through the room. How come I hadn't heard him enter?

"What?" Leo exclaimed. "But- THE BLOOD!"

I heard soft boots walking across the room, no doubt towards Henry.

"It's not his blood."

"WHAT?!" Leo yelped, and I gasped and stared wide eyed at the wall as my bluff was called. Who was this man?

"Leave." The deep voice commanded.

"Ranger, I have orders-"

"That I overrule. Yes I'm aware. Now leave."

A Ranger.

Shit.

Those bastards had been sticking their shady noses in my business for years, but none had ever caught me. Yet. The few times I'd gotten away had been sheer luck, and the time I hadn't, someone else had taken care of the Ranger for me.

Somehow I felt luck wasn't on my side tonight.

I heard next to nothing as the Ranger ghosted across the stone floor to the window.

"I know you're here, Thief."

I held my breath.

"There's only one way you could've gone."

I blinked slowly.

And stared into a pair of bright blue eyes.

"Found you." He smirked, reaching for my arm.

But it wasn't there.

Because I let go.


	3. Chapter 3

_**AS FATE WOULD HAVE IT**_

The ground was softer than I thought it would be.

"Owwww..." It groaned.

Oh wait... That wasn't the ground.

The sentry shifted, shoving me off him, and groaning again. I turned my aching head, catching a glimpse as he stood. He was dressed in the traditional patrol attire, but with leather armor. _Hmm..._ I thought. _Budget cuts._ I angled my eyes down on my own body, and saw something fairly worse. But all I could think was _Thank GOD I didn't hit his spear._

"What the?..." He scratched his head, slowly moving towards my limp body. "Where did ye come from lassie? "OI KYLE! COME LOOKIE 'ERE!"

Damn. Just put a spotlight on me already.

"What is it Dan? Oh!" Kyle exclaimed as he looked me over, then checked his right and left quickly. "Where's the bull that hit her?"

"She fell on me, Kyle."

"Please. Your not that attractive."

"Not fall FOR me, fall ON me, you dimwit. I think she jumped from that window."

"Well what was she doin' up there?"

"How should I know?!"

"Your a sentry! You're supposed to be watching for these things!"

"RIGHT. Cause you were."

"I'll have you know-"

"Gentlemen, please. Your shift is over. Go get some coffee."

Oh no.

"I'll take care of her."

I know that voice.

"YES SIR, RANGER, SIR!" They saluted in unison, as they briskly headed for the guardhouse, bickering quietly all the way. The Ranger waited until they were out of sight, and kneeled down beside me, rolling me over onto my back. Pain shot through my body, but I resisted the urge to cry out. I would not show him weakness.

"Damn, girl." was all he said, before he leaned forward, slipping his hands under me.

"This's gonna hurt."

His strong arms lifted, and I blacked out.

I opened my eyes, only to shut them tightly as the sunlight burned into my skull. Suddenly, I realized my eyes weren't the only things that were burning. I tried to move my leg, but only my left one seemed to work, and it was unbelievably stiff. My right just lay there like a deadweight, and a painful one at that. _Alright,_ I thought, _let's try something smaller._ My arms both moved, but my right hurt a heck of a lot more than my left, and I couldn't quite control my fingers. I sighed at my poor condition, gasping as I felt something similar to a knife slipping through my ribs rip across my middle.

"How are you feeling?"

 _I feel like shit._ "Fine." I grumble. Who was that? Oh, right.

The Ranger.

"Well, that's good to hear, considering you have a fractured leg, a broken arm, a nearly snapped collar bone and three cracked ribs. All, surprisingly, on your right side."

"I guess that sides heavier."

I could almost hear him snicker. "Perhaps. Or maybe you felt the sentry should get the right side of you."

"Hardy har ha-" I was cut off as coughs racked my body, sending my nerves into a frenzy as they screeched bloody murder to my brain. I glanced at my left hand, which I'd held to 'cover my cough' (like a proper lady), and saw only red.

"Try not to cough."

"No shit." I glared at him, wondering how he could be so calm when I was obviously… "What's my condition?"

"I told you. A fractured-

"No, no. I mean am I going to get better?"

"Oh. Well…"

"Well what?"

"You'll live. Malcolm's made sure of that. But I'm afraid you won't be… perfect."

I sighed softly, looking over my sad body. How could I have been so stupid? How could I just… throw it all away? I glanced up at him, staring down once more as I met a gaze of pity. "I wasn't perfect before."

"No, you weren't. Which brings us to the matter of your robbery."

I let my head fall back on the pillow defeatedly. "Let me guess; Jail?"

"No."

"Community service?"

"Not exactly."

I sat up again, regretting it immediately, but feeling powerful as I stared into his deep gray eyes. "Torture?"

He laughed, a light sound that dispersed the feeling of serenity around us. "It was for me! But perhaps you'll feel differently."

Now I was downright confused. "Excuse me?"

"Before I tell you, I need something."

I glared at him impatiently. "What's that?"

"Your name."

"It's…." I paused, wondering if I should make an alias. "It's Gwen." Not quite a lie, but not the whole truth either. It would do.

"Well, Gwen, I'm Gilan." He paused as well, but I'm sure only for theatrical effect.

 _Psh, rangers._ I thought. _So dramatic._

"You are to be… my apprentice."


	4. Chapter 4

MY FIRST FRIEND

Gwen pulled the string back, her muscles gripping hollow bones. Eyes narrowing, focusing on the red circle, she set free the breath that'd been kept captive while she aimed, and let the arrow fly.

It had been four months since that night.

Four months since that brave, stubborn, fateful fall.

She'd adapted to ranger life fairly quickly. After all, it was really no different from her previous one; living in the woods, hunting for dinner, fetching water, and rising with the sun. This was debatably better, considering she had an actual roof over her head and hearth for fire, not to mention coffee. She was now addicted to coffee.

The one thing that took getting used to? The training. Gwen was lean before, but she was weak. She ate little, slept 15 hours a day, and stayed relatively in the same place, moving when she had to. She thought she was competent physically, but Gilan made her realize that Rangers are on a different level entirely.

Her leg healed (for the most part) after 3 months. Then the real training started: 4 hours of target practice a day, running and tracking for kilometers, cooking and cleaning for two (Gilan refused, claiming it was the one perk of training an apprentice; he could skip the housework), and schoolwork.

That's right. Call her uneducated, because that's what she was. Four months ago she couldn't read, though she picked it up quickly. Rihla, the diplomat who agreed to be her tutor, commented on her sharp, though untrained, mind. Gwen told her that her mind was trained, to surviving, and that food doesn't typically leave a letter telling you where it plans to take a nap. Rihla was less praising after that.

Her praise was not the one Gwen worked for, however. Gilan never complimented her shooting or tracking. It was as if he was still trying to figure out whether or not to keep her around, and that feeling scared Gwen most. She couldn't go back to my old life, couldn't go back to simple survival. The more she learned, the more she wanted to know. She worked hard at every task Gilan set her because she feared that if she didn't, she would end up in the same place she'd come from, a fate she saw as equal with death.

Gwen was fighting for a life. Her life.

The arrow missed the center red, but smacked the target hard impressively close to it.

"Not bad." the apprentice mumbled to herself. "Just a few centimeters off."

"A man's heart in only a few centimeters wide."

Her mentor materialized out of the trees, as if a shadow had gone rogue from the sun's direction. How is it that she never heard him coming?

"You relax too much before you shoot. The breath you release lowers your aim a bit, ruining the angle and throwing off your shot. Don't be so careless."

She sighed. Last time he had told her off for being to tense, why was this so damn hard?!

Gilan sensed her frustration.

"Set down your bow and follow me. There's someone you need to see."

Thankful for a rest, Gwen did as asked and walked briskly after him into the trees.

"She's a skimpy one, eh?!" The old fat man exclaimed, throwing a jolly smile Gwens way.

"In comparison to ya Bob, everyone is. Except maybe…." Gilan hesitated.

"Baron Arald?" Bob filled in the thought.

Gilan smiled. Bob and him did that manly forearm grab handshake, and Gwen could practically touch the emanating brotherly love. She rolled her eyes. Strutting over, Gwen stuck out her hand.

"And the name's Gwen, in case you were wondering."

Bob's eyebrows rose. "Feisty too, eh? My Gil you've done it this time. Crowley assign her to ya?"

Gilan turned serious for a moment, and directed his words at his apprentice. "No, actually. I chose her myself."

Gwen stared dumbly back. She'd thought, wait, he actually wanted her? Someone wanted her? That was… new.

"Well you may think she make a decent ranger, Gil, but all rangers need a beastie to carry their lazy arses round the kingdom."

Gilan gave Bob a pained look. "Well, I was hoping you could help us with that."

"Ah! Right! Well, you gave me no warning, but have no fear, Bob is always prepared! I have a clever young gelding who's just about rearing to get outa here. Don't know why, I'm wonderful company."

"I'm sure he's just curious Bob."

"Aye Gillie, he's curious alright. The one thing I couldn't much train outa him. Sticks his muzzle in anything but his business, he does."

Bob waddled away, coming back with a scruffy black and white spotted pony. The horse bore strong resemblance to an Appaloosa, but smaller and much more compact.

"His name's Orie. Well, it's Orion really, but I had ta call the rascal so darn much during trainin' I ended up shorten'en it ta one syllable. He don't care either way." Bob handed the reins to the girl, gesturing to Orie's bareback. "Anytime you's ready, missie."

Orie blinked at Gwen, an expecting tone in his stare. You don't look ready.

"Of course I'm not!" She yipped back at him. "I- I…." Wait, Gwen thought, did I just talk to my horse?

Gilan smirked, remembering the first conversation he had with Blaze. Then he frowned, recalling a question he rather forgot about when he decided to bring her here.

"Gwen, can you ride?"

"I, I…. um… no. No I can't. I mean I can, I just haven't, in a really, really long time."

"Well ain't no cure for nerves like pushing em aside! Do what the tummy flies tell ya not to, I always say." Bob took the reins back. "I'll hold him for ya. Just hop on, he won't kill ya."

She stepped closer to Orie, putting her hands on his toned back. This horse was strong. She could feel the energy built up inside him, waiting to be released with a good run. Gwen was about to take the mount of faith when his hazel eyes met hers. You're forgetting something.

Gwen hesitated, stepping back, and turning to Gilan. She studied his body, the smug way he stood, and the face that gave the same look. He was hiding something, she could tell. I can always tell, Gwen shook her head, Because I'm so used to hiding things myself. "What aren't you telling me?"

Bob's laughter erupted, filling the clearing with joyful sound. "Aye, miss, he's a fooling' ya! See you's too clever for that though eh?! Perfect match for Orie here then. That settles it. Come 'ere, I gots something' to tell ya."

Bob actually came to Gwen, pulling her close and whispering softly, "Shall we?"

She pulled away from Bob's potent odor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He laughed again."That's your ticket miss! Ranger horses gots a passcode to keep them from gettin' taken by whatever hooligans you's fightin'. Whisper it into his ear before ya ride him the first time. or else he buck you off, he will."

Gwen started to form a rhetorical remark, but gave up the idea. At this point, she just accepted things when it came to Rangers. She knew that is she asked, a cryptic response from her mentor would leave her wondering more than she first planned on asking.

Walking slowly over to Orie, she whispered into his ear "Shall we?"

His ears pricked and he looked at her, almost gleefully, it seemed. He snorted, well come on then. Putting her hands on his back, Gwen heaved herself onto the smooth surface. Bob handed up the reins.

"Give him a go, lassie."

Pulling from her distant riding memories, Gwen nudged Orie's flanks gently with her heels.

The appaloosa sprang forward, galloping across that meadow and into the trees. His rider yelped, foregoing the reins and clenching his mane for dear life. However, luck was once again not on Gwen's side, and she was flung, fairly ungracefully, into the grass.

"Damnnnnnnnnnnnn…." She groaned. Her old injuries flared, aggravated by the fall. This is not going to be easy.

Orie slowed to a trot and turned back to face her. His eyes spoke.

Why are you scared?

"I'm not scared, I'm just… just… a little out of practice."

Gwen could've sworn she saw him roll his eyes. It doesn't matter, silly. You won't fall off me.

Gwen looked back sourly. "Oh really. And that's why I'm on the ground?"

Orie's gaze hardened. Not a second time. Trust me.

She sighed, glancing back at the clearing. They'd gone so far so fast. This was a good horse, and he was offering her a pact of friendship. But it had to be mutual.

She set her gaze, determined, on his. "Okay."

His smirk was akin to any humans. Gwen peeled herself off the forest floor and mounted, biting back the pain. They took off into the woods once more.

This time Gwen let herself relax, settling into Orie's steady gallop. They flew, gliding over the forest floor, the wind at their backs, pushing them farther, faster. Orie soared into another clearing, then turned, galloping back to his trainer.

Gwen had never felt so free.

Sliding off Orie's back, she realized he was hardly even breathing hard. The girl smoothed down her windblown locks and giggled, in spite of her bruises.

"Lookin' like he like you, miss! That was quite a rumble you had there, fallen off. Hoped you'd get up on him for a second go! You's a strong one, I give ya tha'. And not ta mention the way yous rode him after! Natural, I say!"

She smiled at Bob. The large man was growing on her. "I had a good teacher." Then her smile faded as memories flooded her mind. Mom. Her mother could ride any horse she mounted. "It's just been a long time." Gwen's voice trembled.

Gilan seemed to sense that something was wrong. "That'll do Bob. Thank you for providing such a wonderful steed in such little time. But the light is fading and I believe Gwen still has some chores left. If you don't mind?" Gilan gestured the way they'd come.

"Ah naw, get ur sneaking clever tooties outa here. And take this with ya." He tossed the young woman a saddle. She caught it, shocked by its light design.

After Bob had shown her how to saddle Orie, Gilan and Gwen set out for home at a leisurely pace. Feeling the steady, confident gelding beneath her, trusting her guidance, Gwen knew that day was one she'd never forget.

It was the very first time she made a friend.


	5. Chapter 5

MATCHES

They didn't make it halfway before they heard screams.

At first, Gilan thought it was just a very obnoxious bird.

But birds don't cry out help.

Swiveling Blaze to the sound, he urged her into a gallop. He called to Gwen, but she was already right behind him. As they sped towards the call, Gilan could taste the smoke in the air.

"It's a fire," He coughed.

Gwen looked at him sarcastically through the trees. "Oh really? Ya think so?"

Gilan sighed. Why was his apprentice so snarky? "Yes, I do. And that means one of us needs to find water."

Gwen gestured to her canteen, the only water-carrying device she kept. "How is a few cups of water supposed to stop a fire?"

Gilan shook his head. "If the fire spreads to the forest we'll need a safe place to take any survivors. Fire won't cross a stream."

Gwen nodded, a little humbled. "So we split up then?"

"Indeed. I've been in this area before, and I remember a large stream a mile or two to the east." He pointed, indicating the direction. "Head that way, and when you find it, look for a safe way across. Then come find me. I'll need you to escort people there."

"Where will you be going?"

"Most likely, to the castle prisons. Seems like we've got someone who wants to go there."

* * *

As it turns out, someone was some people. There were seven men, dressed in red and black leather, all carrying a weapon of sorts. Also strapped to their hips were bags, filled with oil Gilan presumed, and matches. Four were looting what they could from the burned down farmhouse while the other three herded a small family to the other side of the clearing. Gilan, perched in a tree, watched as the event unfolded before him.

"Put tha' ladie o'er there, boy! Tie 'er to tha' tree!"

The youngest of the three men gently grasped the woman's arm and led her to a large oak. He asked her quietly to please stand still while he tied her up. Needless to say, she broke his hold and ran back to her husband, in front of her children.

The largest of the three men shook his head. "Ya idiot! Wha' kind a bandit are ya, Lettin' lil' ladies do as they please?!" He stomped over to the woman, grabbing her neck. "You gotta take 'em where they can't take it, boy!" Using her neck as leverage, he tossed the woman over his shoulder.

Her husband promptly kicked the bandit in the gut, catching his wife as she fell, unconscious. The fat criminal keeled over, but by then the third had drawn a knife. Advancing on the man, he aimed to kill.

But the killing happened quicker than he expected.

The knife slipped from his limp fist, and he slumped to the ground, an arrow neatly tucked into his abdomen.

The fat one, having just recovered, fell to his knees again as he watched his friend die. "NO JERA-" He didn't finish; Gilan's next arrow finished him.

The four looters ran over to face the enemy, only to find the family standing stock still by the stone dead bodies of their comrades. One of the men raised a club at the father.

"You'll die for this!"

"NO!" The women leapt in front of her beloved, garding hopelessly with her forearms.

She didn't need to- a third arrow caught the clubman in the neck, ending his threat.

The final three men scattered to avoid the unseen archer, though only two made it to the treeline. The other was halted by an arrow through the thigh.

Gilan cursed. Should he go after them? Help the family? His hesitation decided for him. He couldn't chase two men anyway.

Lowering himself from the branches, Gilan stepped out into the clearing, walking purposefully towards the fallen bandit. He pulled out his thumb cuffs.

"Hands behind your back. Now."

The outlaw gaped up at him in fear, unable to move.

Gilan sighed. "Right then. I'll do it myself." Grabbing the man, and making sure to put pressure on his pierced leg, Gilan flipped him onto his stomach, ignoring his cries of pain. Gilan quickly cuffed him and relieved him of his weapons, throwing them aside.

Turning to the family, the ranger said, "I'm sorry such a terrible fate has come upon you. I will speak to the Baron of this fief and assure that you are assisted in rebuilding your farm. What name should I give the lord?"

The husband softly stepped forward. "Stone, ranger sir. Klein Stone."

Gilan nodded. "Thank you." He gestured toward the still smoldering home. "I see you built your house on dirt. At least we won't have to worry that the fire will spread."

"Aye, we cleared the grass 'round the ole' shack after what happen' to the Sherleys. They lost their home to the' vermin too, see."

This caught Gilan's interest. "These men have been an issue before?"

"Well, yes and no. I heard theys was only five of them who took down the Sherley place. But now theys seven, least, they were. Mighty fine shootin' o' yours we gotta thank for that." Klein eyed Gilan seriously. "And a mighty fine thanks it is, ranger sir."

Gilan smiled in spite of the situation, but the feeling quickly faded. "I'm afraid, Mr. Stone, that I'm going to need more than just a thank you."

Klein tensed. "Aye… and what'll tha' be?"

"Information. I need to know everything there is about these men."

* * *

Gwen, unfortunately, had no luck finding a river.

The 10 centimeter wide stream wound its way through the forest, unnoticeable in everything but a small trickling sound. She sighed, frustrated. What if I can't find it? A worse thought struck her. What if this IS it?!

Her moment of panic was interrupted by a crashing noise. Somethings coming.

Having left Orie by an old aspen just 30 meters away, Gwen crouched between the thick logs of a fallen oak, wrapping herself in her cloak, and trying to stay still.

A man blundered through the woods, bursting into the narrow streamway. He paused, gathering a sense of direction. Seemingly finding it, he took off into the trees.

Or at least, he tried to.

The stream, it seems, was more useful than Gwen first thought. The brute slipped on the wet stones and stumbled, falling to his hands and knees.

"Damnit!" He cursed, clenching his wrist. "Fuck! That hurts!" He flipped onto his backside, leaning against a boulder, caressing his swollen joint.

This gave Gwen the opportunity to take a good look at him.

A good look at his clothes.

A good look that she didn't need, because a glimpse would've been good enough.

This was the sick, horrid black uniform of the men who burned that inn.

Of the men who murdered her parents.

 _Of the man,_ Gwen realized as she stood, _that I am going to kill._


	6. Chapter 6

Gilan shuffled his notes, stuffing them into his saddlebags. Having sufficiently gathered information about the men who burned .. he sent … on route to the nearest village. Wondering where Gwen could've gone, Gilan headed in towards the stream he sent her to find, leaving Blaze to watch the prisoner.

As he walked, he heard a scream.

It was a girl's voice.

 _Gwen._

Gilan started to run.

Gwen pounced on the black clad man, ripping the heavy saxe from her waist. She barely heard her own cry of wrath as she leapt at his throat.

The man was not in his business for being slow, however, and rolled away from Gwen's hasty attack with ease. Pushing himself onto the streambed, he paused to consider whether he should fight or make a break for it. _If I stay she might kill me. But if I run, she could hunt me down._

Gwen, though unsteady on the wet rocks of the stream, desperately threw her smaller knife at her adversary, interrupting his thoughts. He once again dodged, but the knife did not have far to travel, and it nicked him on the arm.

"Damn you, girl!" Frustrated, he took a rock from the bank and chucked it at Gwen's chest. Caught off guard by the tactic, Gwen succeeded in avoiding the projectile, but slipped on the mossy streambed.

The man once again had a moment to consider his options. He realized, then, that the girl before him was dressed in the same fashion as the man who'd killed several of his comrades. Suddenly, Gwen wasn't the only one infuriated. _And if I keep her alive_ , He thought, _I can use her against that bastard bowman._

Gwen, recovered now, charged at the man. Blinded by her anger she failed to take any thought to her approach, and her enemy had the higher ground. He skipped to the side, reaching down and grabbing her arm as he swung back into the stream, pulling Gwen with him. With her back to him, he twisted, throwing her face first into the rocks like a cushion for his fall. Gwen's hands did little to lessen the blow.

Confident she'd be down for a few seconds, he looked desperately for his sword that he'd dropped sometime earlier. Seeing the wet metal glint in the sun, he reached for the blade.

As his hands grasped the leather pommel, a sharp pain shot from his back, echoing throughout his body. He turned to look, confused.

He was dead before he saw the arrow.

"NO!" Gwen, now on her knees, scrambled to get at the body with her knife. Stabbing it fiercely, her tears began to join the discolored water. "No! I was-"

"Gwen!" Gilan ripped his apprentice from the dead man, grabbing her wrists to stop her desperate, pointless attacks. "What are you doing? He's dead!"

"I was supposed to kill him!" Her face contorted into anger once more. "I was supposed to avenge them!" She yanked her hands away, stood, and screamed at her mentor, "I WAS GOING TO KILL HIM! AND YOU, YOU-" She swallowed the lump in her throat, "you took that from me."

Gilan stared at her for a few moments. Never had he heard of an apprentice eager to kill. But then his mind focused on one of her words. He stood, and looked her in the eye. "Avenge who, Gwen?"

"My, my-" The lump was back. She tried to gulp it down. She failed. "My parents," the words choked her, "my only family."

It was at this point that Gilan began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. A girl, 15 years old, with noticeable burn marks (as he recalled Malcolm mentioning), no family, who lived alone in the forest, and hated men who burned and looted places with a passion.

"Gwen, I need you to calm down and answer this question: Do you remember the day you parents died?"

Her puffy eyes looked at him with incredulous sorrow. "Yeah…"

"Can you tell me why you lived?"

At this, Gwen turned away, shaking her head, unable to speak.

"Gwen, tell me who saved you."

Again, nothing.

Gilan pulled her around to face him, grabbing her shoulders. "Gwen. Who took you out of that inn?"

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

"Why won't you tell me?!"

This time she reacted. "Because I didn't mean for it to happen! It was my fault, but it wasn't, and I want to take it back and I can't!"

"Take what?!"

"Her! I killed her!"

"Who, Gwen?"

"I should've died then!" The words were coming easily now. "She was so beautiful, so kind! And she died to save me! Of all people she saved me!" Gwen hung her head, ashamed. "And now I'm alone, and she's dead, and it's all because of those bastard men!" Gwen, worn out by emotion, sunk onto the bank and planted her face in her hands.

Gilan was sure by now. "What color was her hair?"

Gwen looked up. "Blonde. She was tall, slim, and dressed in white. Like an angel."

Gilan sat beside his apprentice, and sighed. "Her name was Alyss."

"Excuse me?"

"Her name was Alyss Mainwaring. She worked as a courier for Redmont fief, and she was an excellent diplomat. She was also an excellent friend."

Gwen pulled away from her mentor. "Do you hate me?"

"Why on Earth would I hate you?"

"I killed her."

The ranger sighed again. "No, Gwen, you did not kill her. She chose to save you because that's just the kind of person she was, and I know that she would always make the same choice if she could do it over a million times. Do not regret what happened. Take it and carry it like a gift. Alyss gave you a second chance, so make the most of it."

"Well, I haven't so far."

"No you haven't. But by becoming a ranger you can honor her memory. Trust me, she loved rangers." Gilan thought of his friend.

"Okay. I will. You have my word."

"Good." The ranger pushed to his feet. "Then find your horse. It's time we let the corps know about the black filth setting Araluen aflame."


End file.
